Obsession

What you don't write can be as revealing as what you do write.

Case in point: I have been talking and writing so much about my

difficulties and worries in school, that now with my burden lightened

I don't know what to write about. Another example is excessive

flirting with a lady friend. Once we turn to more sincere and sober conversation,

the words don't come quite as quickly. But then they might just be weightier

matters and therefore don't move as quickly.

And there's another thing -- I've often wondered what it would take to

expand my vision beyond my own concerns. I take up the bulk of my writing

with egocentric subjects. That's fine for a blog or a journal, I suppose. But

it says a lot about what I place the most importance upon.

memories

I've been trying so hard to reach my goals within my timetable, I don't even know if I'll like it when I get there, and I haven't been creating any real, substantial, lasting memories while I'm at it. I want my memories of the past 4 years to be more than memories of the pressure and endless hours of homework, seeing the sun for only brief intervals during my morning on-foot rush to my first class of the day.

That's not the kind of life I'm trying to build. All this complaining has been about a choice I made before the semester(s) started with me at BYU: I wanted to catch up, get ahead, be on par with where I thought I should be in my academic progress.

Toad, my first friend in Provo, told me the other week, after not seeing or talking to him for months, that I need to change my priorities, and focus on making worthwhile relationships.

He's right; What will I have when it's all done and finished? A piece of paper and a pat on the back, along with "Good job."

So I think I ought to slow down and leave the rat race. Let the rats run it (No offense to the rats. My sister had a very well-behaved, clean, congenial pet rat). I want my life to mean something, but if nobody's in it, it's only going to mean something to me, and somehow that doesn't seem to mean a whole lot by itself.

I guess I've just been scared that the world won't give me the breaks I need if I don't bust my back early on.

Nuke-yuler

It's probably no cause for worry that American nuclear engineers generally
don't pronounce the word "nuclear" correctly, but it may cause some to
wonder about their credibility.

The way people speak and write can be misleading about their actual competence.
For instance in American television and movies, especially cartoons, people with
southern accents are almost always portrayed as being less intellectual and often
less intelligent. Conversely , people with northern or New England accents are often portrayed as being very intellectual and intelligent indeed. If you meet anyone from either area with either
accent, you'll discover that it isn't necessarily so. It's just a stereotype, but the stereotype is
probably encouraged by the I.Q. Demographics of some of the corresponding geographic areas just mentioned. NewEngland is known for its prestigious schools, and some areas, such as the hill country of Alabama and Kentucky, etc. are famous for their uneducated, uncivilized populations.

So there's some truth behind the myths, but don't jump to conclusions. Even about George W. Bush. his accent probalby hurt him as much as anything because of the public's perceptual mockery of his unintelligent-sounding speech.

7+4 =11 < 14(today). I must have missed at least a week.
Everything in school is to prepare me for the life I should already be living, but can't because of the homework deadlines constantly pressing in.
Even Hercules can't chop off all the Hydra's heads at the same time.
Now if I can just find a time-management procedure analogous to an avalanche....

I need to teach my mom how to use boolean operators (AND, OR, NOT, etc.) and other search expressions; she loves to research but the computers frustrate her.

Worcestershire sauce. Rooster tails. Solid fuel rocket boosters. Just a few of my favorite things.

Nonsequitir

How does one show compassion without inadvertently pressuring the compassionee to accept the compassion? How about a dance partner who worked so very hard and practiced with the compassioner many hours only to be on the wrong foot from each other for 80% of the first round and disqualified after only 40 seconds or less of dancing? Meh. Well at least we CAN do it well now, even if we didn't that time.

in whose hands?

What people need to realize is that we only depend on the government if we depend on the government. Even if the leader of our country is the absolute worst in history, the country only falls if the people fall. That's why CA prop8 is more important to me than who becomes president. Because the condition of society's standards and behavior will guide the country either to ruin or peace and prosperity.

The government can do nothing to create a productive, healthy society without families generating well-adapted, decent and honorable citizens. The very best formula for this generally has been to have each child raised by a mother and father who love each other and the children that they together create. This doesn't always turn out perfectly, but you can see a strong positive correlation. (Most of this paragraph is paraphrased from a BYU devotional/forum this week)

The only way a bad or good leader can make a nation rise or fall is with the people's permission. It's only because we invest in that leader that so much rides on them. only because we consent to their governance.

Cat's wild eyes

Tonight as I left the campus library, I felt impressed to go home a different way than my usual south-by-southeast decline.

As I walked by the Wilkinson Student Center, I spied a large cat, somewhat bigger than the usual housecat, but with tabby-like markings and not big enough to be something like a bobcat or cougar. Anyway, it noticed me first and the sound it made as it backed its head out of the trash can it was rummaging through was very quiet, but alerted me to look in its direction.

Its eyes met mine, not in a mutual communicative glance of gaze, but in an extremely alert, watching manner. My gaze quickly changed to a friendly one to comfort the wild critter so it could go back to its meal.

I just think it's so fascinating, the look in those eyes.
I wonder what feeling makes up that look. Is it fear? Maybe not. Maybe it's that extreme alertness that comes with fear, but isn't always caused by it. I wonder....
These wild animals must not exist always in fear. And when encounters occur, if it IS fear that motivates such intense stares, I doubt that it's the kind of fear that torments so many people.
It must, I suppose, be a fear without attachment. A sort of instinct without dread. That seems more right for the feeling of the look that cat gave me. I wonder....

finally conclude.

So please don't be angry with me. Please try to understand. I think we both want the same thing. We both want our children and families to be happy and have the best things in life. So I hope I haven't sounded argumentative or mean. It's just so important to me. Let's not be shocked and dismayed with each other's views anymore. Please let me keep my traditional family alive. Please help me always be kind to others, even if they don't want what I dream of.